Stardate in Baracoa, Cuba
STARDATE in CUBA. We visit Baracoa
We are enjoying a smooth sail as we follow the Eastern coastline of Cuba. Roughly,
this must have been the approach of Columbus when he made his first landfall.
in 1492. It is a beautiful, mostly undeveloped landscape, as unspoiled
as it was when the Spaniards first saw it and made Columbus utter: "This
is the fairest island human eyes have yet beheld" Especially getting closer
to our destination we couldn't agree with him more.
There on the portside of the boat is a scenery so spectacular that words,
no matter how skillfully written, can do no justice. A mile long black
sandy beach with colorful parasols where beautiful bodies wave us a warm
welcome.Then a malecon (beach drive) which seems too long for such a small
town leads to the bay's entrance where a group of fishermen help
us dodge the rocks to navigate the unmarked channel savely. Once inside
the seductively named Bahia de Miel (Honey Bay) the harbor master's boat
escorts us to the deepest part in the center and we drop the hook
in a tough, clay bottom.There is just 8 feet of water and the boat
needs 7 feet to float freely. A little wave action or extreme ebb may spell
trouble. We keep our fingers crossed
At last we don't have to be concerned with navigating and ready to absorb
the absolute beauty around us. Colorful fishing boats all over the place, palm
trees showing off their shimmering fonds in the breeze, an ancient fort
hanging off the top of a cliff and red roofed houses underneath complete
a picture of a most peaceful place imaginable. But to the West of
the Bay is the most dramatic scene, Baracoa's icon/landmark
El Yunque an anvil -shaped monolith that rises above the beach like an island.
The visit of a foreign pleasure craft is clearly a novelty. Tourism has
barely started in Cuba and what little comes to Baracoa, comes by bus or
plane, not by fancy yacht. So it doesn't surprise us that all kinds of vessels
come to greet us and ask the standard questions like: Where did you come from?
How long will you be staying? Fresh langosta? The Cubans are anxious to
make friends without being pushy or "in your face" and we like that.
It is getting dark and we have yet to furl the sails,clean the top sides , tidy
up the galley and cook some dinner. Too dark and too tired to row into town
we crash early so we can have an early start in the morning. An offshore breeze
fills the boat with the scent of flowers, spices and herbs. After the stench
of Santiago's harbor Baracoa is heaven. When people ask me later on what is my
favored place in Cuba, I take a deep breath, remember this moment and say:
Why, Baracoa of course!!
It has been a great night, my crew has slept well and is ready to explore our
new landfall. The dinghy doesn't carry all 4 of us, so we row back and forth
twice. The first thing I notice is the absence of city-like noise. Automotive
traffic is the exception rather than the rule. People walk, some move by horse
and carriage, some on motor bikes. There is an air of contentment, of peace
and quite, of well being. Something we aren't used to any more, but delighted
to experience again.
We follow our noses to the source of fresh bread and find a bakery and a que
of patient citizens waiting their turn to trade bread coupons
for delicious Cuban bread. (Bread and most other food products are rationed
in Cuba} Lucho talks to the baker's wife who predictably falls for his
charms and tells him that No, we cannot sell you anything without coupons, but
we'll be happy to sell you any unsold bread after the official sale closes in
an hour.Lucho thinks, there'll be plenty left when we get back and we continue
our stroll through the freshly swept streets of downtown Bararcoa. The
people are friendly and curious, the houses simple, functional and well kept.
And what is really surprising is the number of coffee stands. It seems
like every street corner has one Exactly what we needed and precisely at
the right time.Cuban coffee is an industrial strength brew that comes thoroughly
sweetened in thimble-like minicups. One gulp can send an uninformed into a dizzy
spell. But for us, used to strong coffee, it is just what the doctor ordered.
We each order three, the caffeine and the sugar sustains us for the rest of
the morning. We enjoy a breakfast of fresh bread, fried eggs, bacon and marmelade.
We rest a little and row back into town again. This time to find the beach
that had welcomed us on our way in. The bus is full and we don't have the tokens
needed to get on. The driver lets us hang out on a railing till we get
there. The ride is free.
We are the only tourists on a beach full of Cubans of all ages.Twenty-something
girls join us for a walk in the surf they are trying to strike on a conversation
but other than Lucho's our Spanish isn't good enough to catch on.Still the girls
insist and send for assistance.We don't really know what to make of it. Two
big powerful guys, relatives of the girls, we figure, arrive at the scene. One
speaks some English and is happy to translate. Is this conversation assistance
or chaperoning? Well, a bit of both. It is nothing personal, if we had been
local men, the chaperones would have been there just the same. It is an
established, Spanish custom, like the dress-code in Santiago. We talk an awful
lot and dive in the luke warm surf to cool down. Then we buy everybody
a Tropicola, Cuba's version of Coke and talk some more. The chaperones turn
out to be really nice guys who don't take their jobs too seriously. At sunset
we are invited to one of the girl's home, to see how they live. We are quite
surprised to find an unexpected level of comfort in a third world "impoverished",
commie country.But then so many experiences have thrown us for a curve.Simple
furniture, electricity, running water, radio, TV It is all there, all very clean, and
working. I bring up the coffee-stands on the street corners of Baracoa. Oh,
that has been going on for some time. It is an attempt by the local communist
party to provide locals, and especially tourists with an original Cuban"energy"
fix while creating jobs for the elderly and handicapped. Soon it is time to
head for the boat again. It has been a fascinating day and have only just
begun.
Sleep comes easy in a night breeze pregnant with intoxicating scents.
We explore and learn a lot about Baracoa in the short time we have available.
After all we have a yacht to deliver.........
Apart from the natural scenery, the rivers, the bays, El Yunque, the beaches
there is lots of history to study. Baracoa was the first capital of Cuba and
the scene of the first organised resistance to colonialism. We visit one of
thee major fortesses. This one is named "El Castillo" to keep it simple.
It hangs on the top of a steep cliff close to "Honey Bay".
It has been remodelled into a classy hotel restaurant and offers a commanding
view of the old town, El Junque and "Stardate", sitting there peacefully
in the middle of the Bay.
A lesson in Cuban Socialism
We have our departure papers and in Cuba that means you are supposed to leave
without delay. The crew is ready to hoist the anchor, I am in the cockpit and
turn the ignition key................click, ................, click,....click!
I've heard this sound before and I know it spells TROUBLE. The engine doesn't
turn over because there is water in the cylinders and water doesn't compress
so the motor doesn't move.
I get the crew off anchor duty and get on the VHF to notify the harbor master
of our misfortune We are not equipped to do any meanful engine work, but it
is is Saturday morning and all services are closed.Yet the rules have it
that you leave when the papers are complete.
For a moment he considers out loud to tow us out of the harbor with his small
work boat. Then he suddenly has another idea and tells us to be patient and
to wait for a friend of his who may be able to fix the problem. Half an hour
later, the harbor master's boat ties up again to "Stardate" and a
thirty something guy dives into the engine hole and comes out with an oil -cooler and
shows me a tiny leak.He takes off with the oil cooler and doesn't return until
3 or 4 hours later. He looks triumphant when he disappears into the oily darkness
of the engine compartment again while we just stand there in amazement. Instant
service on a holiday?
And without any agreement about price? I don't do a very good job hiding my
worries. The crew, noticing my concerns sugggest that we just take off when
the repair is complete. But they are just joking.Then there is a command from
the engine room: Start!!!!. I can hardly believe my ears but turn the key anyway
and: brooommmm!!!! We are ready to move again. But not before we have parked
our oily, sweaty, dirty repair man in the fresh air of the cockpit.He
enjoys the beers and hot towels we have given him. Then he signals that
he wants to leave.
"La cuenta" I ask him and I get this blank stare. I repeat "La
cuenta, por favor" !! Now the stare turns into a smile : "No senor,
there is no cuenta, it is a free service".I ask Lucho to translate. I insist
that he bills us for his time during a holiday. He flatly refuses and gets ready
to board the harbor master's boat saying something like: We help others like
we would our own, it's our system, it's socialism!! I am totally flabbergasted.
I tell Lucho to get a large bottle of cooking oil from the ship's pantry. I
tell the Good Samaritan that certainly his wife would appreciate a good sized
bottle of cooking oil (a very scarce commodity in 1989 Cuba}.
That solves the problem, we shake hands with all our new friends, we hoist anchor,
and we carefully ease our way out of Bahia de Miel. It has been an unforgetable
experience.
To be continued..............
.